


glabresco ergo effloresco

by persimonne



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Baldo Ren, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Crocheting, Cursed content, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Crack, Frussy AU, HEA, Knitting, No Pregnancy, Safe to Read if You're Triggered by Pregnancy, Sex Pollen, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23817346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persimonne/pseuds/persimonne
Summary: The Baldo Ren/Frussy/Sex Pollen mashup no one asked for.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 39
Kudos: 54
Collections: It All Started With Pizza Dicking - A Weird Reylo Kinkfic Anthology, Sex Pollen to the Rescue





	glabresco ergo effloresco

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriarLily/gifts).



> For the amazing thewayofthetrashcompactor, may Baldo’s head shine upon your life <3  
> Betaed by the always incredible MissCoppelia <3 Thank you so much!

When Ben Solo wakes up after his death on Exegol, he finds himself in front of the famed Force wielders trio, the Father, the Daughter, and the Son. He’s known about them since his youth, when he was stranded at Luke’s academy. The first time he learned about the notion of the Ones, he’d scoffed, sure that nothing so absurd could exist, not even in a galaxy full of light swords and space monks and democracies that did nothing to stop slavery whatsoever.

In a sense, he’d hoped that dying would finally bring him peace, but here he is, in front of these Force fossils, sure that they’re going to request something absurd from him.

“Ben Solo,” says the Father, his grave voice reverberating in the endless void surrounding them.

Ben Solo groans.

“You were not meant to die today!” the elder announces. “You were meant to bring balance to the Force!”

“Well, I–” he starts.

“Silence!” the Daughter thunders, and Ben Solo obeys, a bit scared and a bit horny as well. 

He likes women that can order him around, Rey is the living proof of that. The fact that she’s alive because of him makes him strangely proud of himself, even if he died right after she thanked him with her tongue in his throat.

“You will be brought back to life in ten thousand years, Ben Solo,” the Father continues. “As atonement for your sins.”

This time, Ben isn’t able to keep his mouth shut.

“Excuse me, but I just died to save the Galaxy,” he interjects. “That should be quite the atonement already.”

A quiet murmur rises between the three Force wielders, and they discuss his demand animatedly for a good ten minutes. Ben moves to finger the hole in his shirt in the meantime, his mind running at how hard Rey kicked his ass back on Kef Bir, but he can’t. _He’s naked._

“Okay,” the Father barks, interrupting his unholy thoughts. “We have decided that you can go back amongst the living _now_ , but you need to renounce something very important to you, to prove your atonement is sincere. I know how these things work for you Darksiders,” he adds, glancing at the brooding form of the Son right beside him.

“You have to say renounce love,” the Daughter declares, a deafening silence following her sentence.

 _How lame,_ Ben thinks. _Why can't you let men be in love??? This is why I turned to the Darkside!_

“In which sense?” he asks then. “What do you consider _love_?”

The hopes that he can find a loophole that will permit him to have at least sex with Rey. He knows she’s as hungry as him–she tried to touch his dick while he was all gentlemanly, careful to keep his hands far from her titties, back on Exegol.

“Love is… romantic attachment,” the Daughter explains then.

“Oh well, in that case, I accept. I can still bang my hot enemy, right?”

The three figures begin murmuring again. Ben sniffs his armpit. He stinks of manly musk. _Disgusting._

“Thou shall not _bang_ anyone,” the Father declares then.

“Then I’ll stay dead, if it’s all the same to you,” he spits. “Better a dead virgin than a living one, I would be too horny to resist.”

The Daughter gives him the stink eye, and the Force wielders continue confabulating. 

_That’s annoying,_ Ben thinks, _I feel left out._

The Father coughs politely. “Then you shall renounce to the Force, Ben Solo.”

Ben caresses his abs. There is something that doesn’t add up, in the old man’s statement.

“How can I bring balance to the Force, if I can’t access it?” he asks.

The Ones are visibly upset now, and they begin whispering again amongst themselves again. Ben is tired, he just wants to shower and sleep for a week straight. Being dead is even more annoying than being alive at this point.

“We’ve reached a conclusion,” the Son finally speaks, caressing his white, bald head. “You’ll say goodbye to your beautiful, luscious locks.”

Ben would prefer to say no, but if it’s the only thing that can make him lose his virginity with the woman for whom he’d sacrificed his life, so be it.

“Okay.”

“Just… okay?” the Son asks.

Ben nods. “I’m tired of being here, and Rey already kissed me once after seeing my ears. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind kissing me again, despite my lack of hair.”

That said, his hair disappears in thin air leaving his body completely smooth, and soon he’s sucked by a luminous vortex, bringing him right where Rey is currently brooding: on the cesspool of a planet that is Tatooine.

“Ow,” Ben says, landing right on a pile of sand beside a vaporator.

He’s naked as a sandworm, he needs to locate Rey’s position, and reach her as soon as possible. Hopefully, she won’t leave the planet before he can find suitable clothes. Praying he won’t get a sunburn on his shiny, bald head, he covers his bits with his hands and starts to walk towards a nostalgic twin sunset.

***

Rey is the ghost of herself, wallowing in an empty house. She couldn’t stand the Resistance throwing party after party, completely uncaring of the gaping hole left in her heart by Leia’s and Ben’s deaths, so she chose one of the worst planets in the galaxy to hole up in, alone, counting the days she’s passed there, as she did on Jakku.

She misses Ben, she misses Ben so much that she can’t even sleep: he haunts her dreams with his luscious mouth and his pretty eyes, ravaging her whole body and leaving her all hot and bothered in the mornings. That’s how she is when someone–a stranger with a huge, smelly poncho, tacky sunglasses, and a shiny, shiny bald head–barges into the late Lars’ estate, kicking the door and screaming:

“Rey! I’ve traveled through space and time to give you my seed!”

She punches him in the face, making him faint on the spot. Upon closer inspection, she notices that the bald, horny stranger is in fact a very much alive Ben Solo, back from the dead and strangely without a hint of hair on his stubborn head.

***

When Ben wakes up, there is someone caressing his hairless scalp. It’s Rey, her lovely face slowly fills his still unfocused vision and he starts crying. He cries also because his nose hurts like the Nine Corellian Hells. Has he broken it again? 

_Who cares, Rey is finally here with me!_

“My love,” he rasps, “I’ve missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you as well, Ben,” she cries back, “But what happened to your hair?”

_Ah._

“Well, I… I sacrificed it to come back amongst the living.”

Rey pales. “Is this–This is a temporary thing, right? You shaved your head to convince the Force to let you come back or something?”

Ben closes his eyes, exhaling. “I don–I don’t think so. The Ones asked me to renounce something important, and I renounced my hair. The alternative would have been renouncing _you._ ”

“Oh, Ben,” Rey whispers, finally closing the distance between them, her chapped lips divine against his soft, plump ones. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

“No, you’re the bravest between us, Rey. You kissed me after seeing me all wet, my ears sticking out, and now you’re kissing me again.”

She caresses his shiny, shiny head. “There is nothing dearer to me than your ears.”

Ben smirks, even if his nose is still throbbing. “By the way, I’m totally bald now, even down _there._ Do you want to take a look?”

***

Ben and Rey start their life on Tatooine. They tend to the moisture farm by day, making sweet love by night–Rey always holding on for dear life on Ben’s shiny, shiny head while he pounds her pussy into oblivion for a hot minute or two. 

Since there is nothing to do there, besides reading old books and watching lettuce grow before selling it at Tosche Station, they both start learning how to make stuff by hand. Ben knits a beautiful shawl for Rey, while she crochets a good selection of hats and beanies to protect his bald, bald head from the unforgiving suns.

One day, while Ben is baking a womp rat pie, Rey finds something really interesting while perusing the Sacred Jedi Texts: a fabled plant whose most peculiar tract is to make hair grow beautiful and thick, even after someone has become naturally bald. She looks at Ben then, sporting a nice chef hat crocheted by her, perched on his smooth forehead. He’s still the cutest bean ever, but she misses his luscious locks, and she’s sure he misses them as well, even if he likes to act stoic in front of her.

“I‘ve found something that could help us with your hair problem,” she announces. “It’s some kind of vegetable.”

Ben stops kneading the dough, looking at her. “Really?”

Rey turns the book towards him, showing the page talking about this miraculous plant. It looks like a long pinecone of sorts, its colour reddish, sprouting from a thick, green stem. Its name is Frussy. No scientific name, apparently.

“Is that edible?” Ben asks.

“I have no idea,” Rey says. “Here it says that it sprouts a clear, sticky juice when it’s ripe, you have to squeeze it and massage the juice where you want your hair to grow again.”

“That’s actually better than eating the stuff,” Ben comments, even if they’re about to eat baked womp rat pie. “Where can we find this Frussy plant?”

“Felucia. We could sell our last batch of lettuce tomorrow and go there with the Falcon for a couple of weeks, what do you think? It will be like a small vacation!”

Ben nods, warm tears already pooling in his eyes. Rey has always made a point to shower his shiny head with love, kissing it, massaging it, rubbing her wet, wet pussy all over it, but the fact is that they both miss his hair very much.

“What if it doesn’t work?” He asks then, his heart suddenly filled with doubt.

Rey smiles at him, unbothered by his negativity. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll shave my hair as well.”

Ben gulps. _“All_ your hair?”

“All of it.”

***

They land on Felucia after three days of hyperspace travel during which they mainly knit some more beanies and play Dejarik. Sex in space apparently makes Rey dizzy, so after trying one first, disastrous time, they decide to wait after landing. The planet isn't as hot as Tatooine but its humidity is almost unbearable, so they ditch their beanies and some of their clothes as well, to Rey’s delight, remaining in their underwear–she finds herself looking at Ben’s muscled butt as he walks in front of her amongst the luscious vegetation.

The Frussy isn’t hard to find, it grows basically everywhere on the planet, but Rey insists on finding the biggest, ripest specimen to give Ben his mane back. They return to the Falcon, Rey cradling the foot-long inflorescence between her arms.

“Doesn’t it look like a dick?” she asks

“How many kinds of dicks have you seen?” Ben answers, pinching her butt.

Rey shrugs, laughing. “Yours is surprisingly cute, but I wouldn’t say no to a Frussy-shaped one, you know.”

Once on the Falcon, they try to remember how Ben’s hairline was before he died, as well as his eyebrows. He makes Rey read his mind, looking for a memory of him looking at himself in a mirror, and she traces the shapes with a pen over his forehead. Then she decides to squeeze the Frussy over a bowl, to not risk squirting its juices all over Ben’s shoulders and torso, since apparently even a second of permanence on bare skin is enough to stimulate hair follicles–she loves his hair but not on his shoulders, thank you very much.

Once she squeezes out everything, she throws the dried Frussy away and starts to massage Ben’s bald scalp with the goo. It’s slimy and slightly perfumed, and Rey likes its texture a lot.

“It reminds me of my pussy juices,” she exclaims, “or lube!” 

Ben blushes thinking about those times they used lube–there’s really not much to do on Tatooine. Rey smirks, applying the goo where his eyebrows should be, using a small brush.

“Do you want to try it somewhere else? On your chin?”

“Nah, I always shaved there. I can’t grow a nice beard.”

“... what about your groin?” she winks.

Ben laughs. “You seem to like me all smooth there. I’ll stay hairless, just for you.”

“Perfect! Now we only have to wait for a night.”

Ben’s face falls. “I hoped to take advantage of the fact that we’re not in hyperspace anymore.”

“The Sacred Jedi Texts say that you shouldn’t strain yourself while you’re waiting for your hair to grow back.”

“Fine,” Ben pouts. “Then I will sit here consumed by lust for the rest of the evening!”

***

The following morning, Rey wakes up squealing: Ben’s hair is back. He squints an eye upon hearing her, and she jumps on him, kicking his ribs a couple of times in her enthusiasm–he doesn’t even flinch.

“It worked! It worked!” she exclaims, kissing him.

“Really? Let me see?”

She launches herself in the small sonic bathroom next to their bunk to retrieve a mirror, bringing it to Ben. He looks at himself, stunned: his hair is back, and it’s even better than before he died. Rey jumps on him again, kissing him, and he surrenders to her enthusiasm, his dick very much awake now. There is no need for words between them: Rey lowers his underwear, freeing his erection, but upon seeing it, she pales.

Ben lowers his gaze on his own groin then, and he almost faints on the spot: there is a Frussy there, right where his dick was. Or maybe, his dick became a Frussy somehow, all red and scaly. Ben is not sure this outcome makes him happy, since it looks like he can’t win: he can resuscitate, but only without hair. He can have his hair back, but now he has a pinecone dong. 

_What a bummer._

“Wow,” Rey murmurs. “I was actually kidding yesterday, when I said that I wanted to try a Frussy dick. Does it hurt?”

“I have no idea, it feels like a normal dick to me?”

“Can I touch it?”

Ben shrugs. “Sure?”

Rey pokes it with her finger and something really strange happens: the scales on Ben’s dick open up, releasing a sort of reddish pollen all over Rey’s face. She promptly sneezes, and when she emerges from Ben’s groin, her eyes are unfocused and her face is blushing so hard that it’s almost red.

“Rey! What happened?” he asks, worried. 

She promptly starts crying. “Ben! I feel strange…” she slurs, shredding her own pajama top. “Everything itches, and I feel burning between my legs!”

Ben is on her in a second, ready to quench her thirst. “Tell me what to do, Rey!”

“I need you… I need your Frussy inside me!” she cries, and he helps her destroy her pajama shorts as well.

Her pussy is so soaked that he can almost hear it call him… calling for his Frussy to fill it to the brim. Rey is now delirious, all sweaty and jittery, and Ben penetrates her naughty, hungry cunt with three of his meaty fingers without any problem. She’s never been so wet in her life, and despite having been a virgin until his resurrection, Ben knows Rey’s pussy like the palm of his right hand–it kinda replaced it, to be honest. 

“F–Frussy, please!” Rey cries, and Ben can’t help obliging her.

He slides right in, despite his scales, despite all the pollen still around, like her pussy was born to be the perfect sheath to his meat–or vegetal?–sword. For the first time in his short sexual career, Ben feels like he can actually last for more than a couple of minutes while penetrating her.

“Oh Ben! Beat my pussy like you beat eggs for your womp rat pie!”

Ben can’t help complying. He fucks Rey on the bunk, in the sonic shower, on the Dejarik table, on the pilot seat, on the co-pilot seat, on the dashboard, and on the floor before he comes in a whirlwind of colorful pollen, squirting deep inside Rey. She comes as well, howling his name and tugging on his brand new mane, her cunt clenching around the miraculous Frussy dong. When they disengage, all the goo he’s pumped into her drips out in a rainbow of sticky happiness, and she smiles at him sweetly. He smiles back, feeling all warm and satisfied.

“That was… something,” she squeaks feebly. “It looks like this is a win-win situation.”

Ben looks down at his Frussy dong: it still looks like a Frussy, only limper now.

“Well, I really don’t mind my new dick anymore.”

Rey jumps to her feet, and starts rummaging in a secret compartment located in the corridor of the ship, dripping colorful spunk all over the floor. Ben follows her, careful to not squash her goo tracks with his bare feet, his Frussy dong bobbing as he walks.

“What are you looking for?” he asks. 

She emerges from the compartment with a shovel and several pots.

“I want to make that Fussy plant endemic on Tatooine. That will be my goal from now on,” she declares. “After all, my family came back to me, in the end.”

Ben looks behind him, in case she’s talking to someone else.

“I’m talking about you,” she says, grabbing his neck and crashing their lips together. “Dummy!”

Ben answers the kiss, hugging her tight. He’s pretty sure there’s more pollen dripping from his new dong, but he doesn’t care: it feels like home.

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
